


when you change, isn't it electrifying?

by rebelcracker



Series: r e d [2]
Category: The School for Good and Evil - Soman Chainani
Genre: Blood, Dark Magic, Death, F/M, Horror, Werewolves, Witchcraft, Witches, what are tags, you know your average horror story
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-13
Updated: 2021-01-28
Packaged: 2021-03-17 12:28:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,933
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28599972
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rebelcracker/pseuds/rebelcracker
Summary: they were so close.sophie and her coven had one goal: open an interdimensional portal and become the most powerful coven around. they gathered everything they needed for the ritual, defeated obstacles from within and without… and the ritual failed.or did it? when a mysterious figure enters sophie’s life, she takes a step away from the coven… then another. as a dark fate looms closer and closer to the coven, sophie’s loyalty and morality are put to the test. but the question is, is sophie moving away from the greater danger, or toward it?
Relationships: Hort/Sophie (The School for Good and Evil)
Series: r e d [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1971583
Comments: 2
Kudos: 1





	1. the fic

Before desire possesses Sophie’s mind, she feels… decent. Not happy or triumphant, but not sad either. Just fine, and for now, that’s enough. 

Then, her mind and body burn to nothing. Her muscles tense, and her fingers clench. Something takes control of her, makes her want to hunt and kill and destroy. Makes her want—makes her  _ need _ —the taste of blood. 

It dissipates in a second. Sophie slumps into her chair; the red lipstick in her fingers tumbles to the floor. Her breath trembles. From the vanity, three reflections gape back at her.

Sophie shuts her eyes, banishing her frightened face from her mind. The samples on the back of her hand glint in the last rays of moonlight as she retrieves the tube and sets it in front of her. 

Taking a careful breath, Sophie tests out the next shade of lipstick. Her mind wanders—first to that strange moment, which she quickly ignores. Then she moves back in time: the previous night and Hester’s shouting fit, a stifling silence the night before… and two nights ago, when Agatha tried to betray the coven. When Sophie didn’t let her.

Closing her eyes, she watches it all happen again. Headlights washing over Tedros, highlighting the terror in his eyes. Sophie’s fingers slamming against the trigger. The bolt whistling through the air and striking its target.

The feeling vanishes when Sophie remembers what happens next.

His body is gone. The coven shouldn’t have lost him or anyone else they’d killed, but the portal opened and things went in instead of out. The ritual failed and took the coven’s efforts with it. All the power they could have gained… gone. 

Sophie’s shoulders slump with the thought of what they’ve lost, but before she can dwell any longer on it, an image fills her mind. A hallway in the same house, not too far away from here. Though, strangely enough, not in color. Grey wallpaper, black doors, and a mirror on Sophie’s right. She turns toward it, but the reflection isn’t hers, it’s—

Just like that, it disappears. 

Sophie’s heart rate rises. She stands, knees shaking.  _ What’s happening? _

Sighing, she turns toward the blank door across the room. Her fingers twitch.  _ What am I waiting for?  _ she thinks, though she doesn’t want an answer. 

She starts walking. Kicks bunched-up clothes on the floor, passes her pillow-covered bed and the creams stacked on her nightstand. Outside her room, footsteps rush to meet her—or is that her imagination? Holding her breath, Sophie pulls the door open to reveal Anadil. 

The witches lock eyes. “You sense it too,” Anadil gasps.

Sophie stiffens. “Sense what?”

“Not sure.” Anadil glances over her shoulder. “There’s something dark here. Some creature… I thought I saw it outside.”

“Wait. You  _ saw _ it?” Sophie’s fingers clutch the doorframe. 

Anadil nods. “I did. So stay alert. Find me if you see something.” With that, she leaves, an empty hallway stretching behind her. Painted eyes watch on Sophie and fill her with paranoia. She turns away.

Another vision forces her to freeze. She’s standing in the same hallway, but in the distance, she notices a figure with blond hair, tall boots and a stomach-baring green top. Herself.

When the vision disappears, her head whips to either end of the hallway. Empty. Both ways empty.

She takes a ragged breath. “What is this?”

No response. Sophie doesn’t know why she still feels uncertain. She backs into her room and slams the door, then lays her forehead against it. A breath emerges from her lips.

“Sophie?” Footsteps rush up to her door and knocks pulse through the room. Grumbling, Sophie tears the door open to see Hester, arms crossed and dark eyes narrowed to slits. She scans Sophie’s face, and her scowl only grows. ”Don’t tell me Anadil made you paranoid, too.”

“I’m not paranoid.” Sophie crosses her arms. 

Hester cocks an eyebrow. “Sure… Anyways, we’re going out tonight. Be ready.”

“How’d you get Anadil and Dot to agree to that?”

“I didn’t.” Hester smirks. “But after last night, we need a distraction.”

“...Okay.” Sophie leans against the doorframe. “I wouldn’t mind a day out—”

Somewhere, something howls, a cry for blood that slices its way under Sophie’s skin and keeps her from breathing. When silence returns, Sophie’s hands begin to shake.

“Stop freaking out,” Hester scorns, clearly unaffected. “That was probably a coyote.”

_ A coyote? _ Shaking her head, Sophie pushes past Hester and starts down the hallway. Hester protests— _ of course she does, what a control freak— _ but Sophie doesn’t stop. Her vision tunnels on the window at the very end of the hall, the shadowed backyard and vanishing moon. There, a dark figure appears. Sophie’s pace quickens. Hester’s voice fades as she rushes to the end of the hall and turns toward the door to the backyard. Fingers curling around the handle, she hesitates.

Holding her breath, she pushes outside. Winds slam against her, a tangle of plants surround her, and a neighbor’s faraway Halloween decorations flicker. There, in the middle of dying grass, stands a figure. 

Not a beast. A boy. A boy with stringy dark hair and scrawny limbs. He looks down at his slim, pale figure like his own body is unfamiliar. His eyes travel to his bare chest, then to his soiled pants _ — _ the only clothes he wears.

Sophie gags and starts to turn away. The boy’s head tilts and he looks up, bringing his slim nose and beady eyes into light. They lock eyes. For a moment, Sophie swears she can sense a current of electricity flowing between them. 

Then the boy’s face turns red, and he starts running. 

“Hey—Stop!” Sophie cries as she stumbles after him. Her bare feet thrum against the ground, irregularly at first, but she slowly reaches a rhythm. Triumphant, she looks up at the boy, only to see him jump the fence and disappear. 

Sophie grits her teeth. He’s not getting away.

Her nails dig into wood, and she starts scaling the fence. Her feet slip once, twice, until they finally stay where they’re supposed to and Sophie can pull herself higher. Twisting over the fence doesn’t take much effort (years of yoga have kept her flexible), but as she climbs back down, her dress catches on the fence and she has to tear it away, leaving a huge hole in the fabric. With a hiss, she looks up. 

Only a block stretches between her and the boy. Sophie sprints forward, passing houses whose lights flick on and looming trees blur past her. Headlights flare in the corner of her vision as a car nearly runs Sophie over—she dodges quickly before sprinting across the street.

Finally,  _ finally, _ she catches up to him. He stiffens as she approaches, glances back before training his eyes on the sidewalk. 

“Excuse me?” Sophie calls.

A beat of silence. Then he whirls around, dark eyes glaring straight into hers. “Leave me alone!”

Sophie stops and bites her tongue to keep from laughing. He sounds not like a monster, but a kid. A snively, whining kid. Tilting her chin higher, she tells him, “Stay away from me.”

With a grunt, he storms away. Sophie doesn’t move until she sees his figure vanish. She takes a full breath of air as her lips form a smile. 

_ Good riddance,  _ she thinks.

She returns to the coven’s house with her head high. Above her, the sky lightens to blue and the morning begins. Unlocking her front door with a spell, Sophie pushes the last few minutes to the back of her mind and steps inside. 

“Hey, Sophie.”

Smile vanishing, Sophie stiffens. She locks eyes with Dot, who sits on the stairs, staring at the step below her. 

“Um…” Dot swallows. “Sorry, I just…”

Avoiding eye contact, Sophie inches closer to the stairs. “Don’t tell Hester or Anadil I left.”

“About that _ — _ ”

“Sophie!” Hester stomps in, still frowning. “Where have you been?”

“Out walking, of course,” Sophie lies quickly. “It’s such a beautiful morning, isn’t it? I just had to go outside and see it for myself. I don’t think you would have liked it, though. It was all colorful, and you’re…” Sophie motions at Hester’s all-black outfit.

“ _ Excuse _ me?” Hester flares.

“Hester, lay off,” Anadil grumbles, appearing and leaning against a doorframe.

Frowning, Hester looks down about her outfit. “Maybe I should do something about this. Here. I’ll head to the thrift store and grab some outfits we can all wear when we go out tonight.”

Only a split second passes before the other three witches start complaining. 

“I am not celebrating after everything that’s happened _ — _ ”

“I’d rather lock you in the trunk—”

“Darling, you should really leave the outfits to me _ — _ ”

“Shut up!” Hester shouts, and the others fall into silence. Sighing, she reaches into her pocket and pulls out a set of car keys. “Don’t bother complaining. My mind’s made up.”

Sophie groans quietly.

“And don’t forget—” Hester points a finger at Dot—“any attempts to sneak Agatha extra food leads to her  _ starving  _ to death. Got it?”

Sophie’s fists clench with Agatha’s name. She’s not the only one. Anadil’s fingers twitch, while Dot’s spine sags. 

“Good.” Hester grins awfully. “I’ll be back in an hour.”

She slips out of the front door. Once the engine’s growl fades, Dot asks, “Can we  _ please _ lock her out?”

Anadil sighs. “Sadly, no.”

Trying not to imagine the awful outfit Hester will choose, Sophie ascends the stairs. She passes a series of doors and stops at a blank stretch of wall _ — _ at least, that’s what it looks like. When Sophie brushes her fingers on it, magic ripples, revealing a windowless room. Inside, boxes of forgotten belongings surround Agatha, who lies in a heap in the corner. Her bloodstained dress wraps around her curled-up figure.  _ The punishment fits, _ Sophie thinks as her fingers leave the wall and the image fades. 

With a sigh, she closes the door to her room and turns around. Nothing is different. Her bed is still made, her closet in perfect condition, every item atop her vanity where it’s meant to be. Why isn’t she relieved?

Her mind wanders back to the flashes, the sights and the feelings, the creature she swore she saw. The boy she saw instead.

And then, another vision. A Pac-Man game flashing on a screen, Sophie’s hand clenched around a joystick, music playing faintly. All at the same time. 

When Sophie returns to the present, her fingers clench together. She relaxes them and takes a breath.  _ I can’t keep ignoring this. _

Her lips close. There’s a second of silence, of feeling nothing. And then something sparks inside of her.

It’s like Sophie’s remembering a thousand things she’s forgotten. Images flash in her head: a young boy in his father’s arms, a group of distorted faces, a swirling and strange sky. And a face.  _ His  _ face. 

His memories.

Sophie takes a breath as the images clear. Her mind spins as she tries to understand… then it all clicks.

The ritual. It should have summoned a creature from another dimension, a slave for the coven. To ensure it followed the coven’s command, a magic connection would tie it to one witch.

Maybe the ritual worked after all.

_ So that boy is something more than a boy. _

Sophie exhales. She can still feel the spark in the back of her mind. Without thinking, she reaches for it.

More visions appear. Herself in the halfway _ — _ what she saw in her earlier flashes. Staring at the boy in the backyard, sunlight glinting in her emerald eyes. And then, something different. 

It’s not a memory, it’s too dark around the edges. Blurred streaks of green instead of grass; a dark and crooked figure standing in front of a blackened sky. And below it…

Sophie chokes.

Her covenmates, or some cruel rendering of them. Blurred figures with Hester’s red-streaked hair, Anadil’s pale skin, Dot’s curvy figure. Other than that, there are no distinct details… except for blood. Everywhere _. _ Streaking their hair and clothes, spilling into the grass. 

But one body remains in perfect detail, from strands of blond hair to creases in red lips.  _ Sophie’s _ body.

She jolts back to attention, knocking over half of the bottles on her nightstand. Her breath comes in urgent gasps. 

“Oh God,” she whispers. “He’s…”

Her mind finishes the sentence she won’t speak aloud.  _ He’s going to kill me. _

A moment passes, terror flows through Sophie’s body without constraint. Then her mind kicks in and her eyes narrow, pink sparks emerging from her fingertips.  _ No, he’s not.  _

  
  


There’s only one place in town outdated enough for Pac-Man. 

In the middle of a shopping center, a blown-out neon sign marks the building’s presence. When Sophie walks through the sliding doors, synthesized music and indistinct chatter fill her ears. Checkered tile leads her past the smell of burgers and nachos. Bowling lanes stretch in front of her while somewhere to the right, lights flash as a hundred machines beep in unison.

Sophie draws closer to the arcade, tracing rows of games up to the mirrored tile on the ceiling. In distorted reflections, the boy stands at a Galaga machine, now clad in a T-shirt and ratty sneakers. 

Leaning against a machine a row across from him, Sophie watches his fingers jiggle the joystick and slam a button. At this moment, he looks human.

Soon enough, his hand slips from the joystick and his ship explodes on the screen. Cursing, he bares his teeth at the screen before turning away. 

Their eyes meet. The boy stiffens, and his gaze turns hard. “You.”

Sophie turns bright red in a second. “Um.”  _ Oh, come on,  _ she thinks.  _ Way to be intimidating.  _

The boy leans back and crosses his arms. “You’re much dumber than I expected.”

Ignoring his comment, Sophie tightens her grip on the strap of her purse. “I know what you’re planning.”

He shrugs. “And?”

“If you think I’m going to stand back and let you kill me and my coven, you’re wrong.” Sophie straightens her spine even though she still towers several inches over the boy. (Is it the heels? Definitely the heels.)

Smirking, the boy turns to another game and plugs in coins. “So try and fight me. I dare you.”

As the game starts up, Sophie leans against it with a scowl. “Why were you in that other dimension?”

“I wasn't there because I wanted to be,” the boy huffed, shoving the joystick forward. “I was trapped. By witches like you trying to do good.”

“Me trying to do good?” Sophie snorts. “Haven’t done that in a while.”

The boy grits his teeth and focuses on the game, but his voice responds in Sophie’s head.  _ Pretty _ and _ a bad girl? Wow. _

The connection in the back of Sophie’s mind blazes. Hesitating, she pushes a thought toward it.  _ So we can hear each other's thoughts now? _

The boy stumbles, losing his grip on the joystick. Face red, he looks at Sophie. She grins back. 

Grumbling, the boy turns back to his game. The joystick bounces from side to side in his fist as he struggles to drive a tiny car on the screen. But his movements lag each time, making it harder to keep up with the game. Eventually, a delayed movement makes him crash and the screen goes dark, broadcasting a two-word message: GAME OVER.

The boy curses and slams his palm against the joystick, shoving it forward until it snaps. Chest heaving, he glares at the broken game, then storms away.

Hesitating, Sophie stares at the joystick.  _ Shouldn’t he leave a note or something?  _

She doesn’t realize that the boy heard her until he freezes. When he turns around, there’s something feral in his eyes. 

“Do I look like I care about that?” he hisses. “About any of that?”

He turns around, and a moment later, he’s long gone.

  
  


“Where were you?” Hester demands as Sophie slams the door behind her.

Ignoring her, Sophie removes her heels before stomping to the stairs. Her eyes remain on the ground, her expression wiped of emotion.

Hester clears her throat. “ _ Hey _ .”

Sophie hesitates, then looks back. “Yes?”

Scowling, Hester holds up a bag. Sophie spies bright fabric bulging against plastic and wrinkles her nose. Reluctantly, she accepts the bag. 

Before Hester can say anything else, Sophie ascends the stairs, ready to abandon the bag dragging behind her in the back of her closet. At the top of the stairs, Anadil leans over the railing, staring at Hester like a cat stares at a mouse. Sophie walks over. “What are you—”

Anadil slams a hand to Sophie’s mouth; a second later, she pulls away and turns toward a pacing Hester. Sophie opens her mouth again.

Closing her eyes, Anadil holds up a green-sparking hand. Every light in the house goes out at once. 

The lights switch on a moment later. Sophie gapes down at Hester, who looks confused but not too worried. Smirking, Anadil presses her hands into… a shadow puppet? She holds them in front of a window, and a shadow falls onto the entryway _ — _ one in the shape of a wolf.

Hester watches the shadow grow closer. The bags in her hands plummet to the ground. Terror fills her eyes, and she backs into a corner. Closer. The shadow looms over her skin.

With a gasp, Hester rushes away, almost tripping over herself.

After she disappears, Anadil lowers her hands with a triumphant smile. Mouth wide open, Sophie whirls. “What did you do?”

“I taught her a lesson,” Anadil says coolly. “She should have listened to us.”

“ _ Anadil.” _ Sophie can’t keep fear from creeping into her voice. “This isn’t some game you can play to get revenge.” 

The other witch fixes colorless eyes on Sophie. “Why not?”

For a moment, Sophie considers telling her, then she shuts her mouth.  _ If I die, they all die with me. _

After sharing defiant glares, Anadil and Sophie part ways. As Sophie walks toward her room, the boy’s voice snorts,  _ They sound wonderful. _

Sophie freezes.  _ Why are you in my head? _

No response. 

“Let’s see how you like it,” Sophie mutters, reaching for the connection. Her mind’s eye fills with color, replaying the boy’s earlier game.

Then another scene appears. The boy stands in front of the same game, only somewhere different. His hands slam against the controls, half their current size. He reaches the last flag and laughter erupts as a man in his late twenties scoops the boy into his arms.  _ You did it, Hort!  _ the man cheers. 

_ Hort?  _ Sophie wrinkles her nose.  _ What kind of a name is that? _

The image changes. The same man, but a decade older. He’s tied to a chair, gagged, his eyes wide. Sophie can feel Hort’s desperation as he rushes forward.

Then someone shouts. A flash of sparks,  _ magic _ sparks, then Hort falls with a whine. Women cloud in his vision, their lips moving. Light emerging from their fingertips.

Next, a sky of swirling, surreal blue. 

Visions finally gone, Sophie gazes up at the ceiling. Hort’s voice echoes in her mind:  _ I wasn’t there because I wanted to be. _

Hort says nothing. Sophie runs her tongue over her lips, trying to figure out something to say.  _ That was your dad, right? _

_ Right.  _ His voice falters.  _ It’s been a while since I last saw him. I wonder how he is… if he ever figured out that I tried to save him. Tried and failed.  _

Sophie replays the memory. This time, she notices two hairy hands clawing forward, the man’s eyes widening as he notices them.  _ He didn’t know? That you’re… _

_ Nope.  _ Sophie can practically hear Hort’s sigh. 

A pang of sympathy fills her chest, then she shakes it away.  _ He’s a monster. If I get soft for a second, he’ll kill me. _

She cringes, realizing he could have heard her. No response comes. With a sigh, Sophie lies down, closes her eyes, and doesn’t think for a long time. 

Then she hears the scream.

She jumps up and takes a breath. Silence.

Another scream. Sophie rushes toward her door and shoves it open. The halls blur around her as somewhere in the distance, Dot cries, “Somebody help!”

_ If this is you, I swear I’m going to kill you,  _ Sophie tells Hort as she reaches the last step.

Her feet barely leave the stairs before Dot shouts again. Sophie spins around.  _ The backyard.  _ She sprints to the back of the house, pulls the door open and steps outside.

Wind slams into Sophie’s face. Heart rate spiking, she steps forward. Her feet scrape against the path and branches drag along her arms, but she won’t stop. 

Then a whisper. “Sophie?” 

Dot hides behind a large bush, trying her best to stay concealed. Sophie kneels next to her. “What’s happening?”

“I…” Dot struggles to inhale. “I saw something and I came out here to look and… it attacked me.”

For a long moment, Sophie doesn’t breathe. Then she swallows. “Where is it?” 

Finger shaking, Dot points at the farthest end of the yard. 

Sophie rises and runs toward the fence. Wood creaks when she approaches, then a leg swings over the fence. Anadil’s boots slam into grass; she notices Sophie and frowns. “It’s you. Where is—”

Before she can finish, the fence bends under someone else’s weight. Cursing, Anadil steps back with green sparks blazing from her fingers. Sophie summons her magic; her eyes lock on the fence as something climbs higher.

The fence shakes. Something appears—a hair-covered hand. 

Anadil and Sophie stumble back as a creature lands in front of them. Hair covers its entire body, from crooked legs to scrawny torso. Claws jut from its fingertips, and below two beady eyes, its jaw stretches far enough to show a full set of fangs. 

It growls. Inside Sophie’s mind, Hort laughs.

_ What? _ Sophie snaps back.  _ What could possibly be funny about this? _

_ You seriously think that’s me? _

_...Yes. _

_ Okay. First of all, real werewolves look nothing like that. Second, it’s the freaking afternoon.  _

Sophie frowns, but before she can respond, the creature charges. She lands on her back a second later. It swipes a claw at her. Sophie yelps and shields her face. The next swipe comes so close Sophie can feel it; luckily, Anadil pulls it upright. Gasping hard, Sophie scrambles to her feet as Anadil punches the creature in the jaw. 

She balls her fists.  _ Hort, you’d better not be lying when you say this isn’t real. _

With a war cry, Sophie charges at the same time Anadil lands an especially forceful punch. The creature topples over, and Sophie kneels next to it. Her glowing palm slams against its face, and her fingers smoke. She grins. 

Its hands fly up. Sophie pushes harder. 

“Enough, Sophie!” a voice gasps. The creature reaches for its face and removes… a mask?

Not real.

Coughing furiously, Hester shoves Sophie away and sits up, flinging the mask into the grass. “Caught me.” 

Sophie gapes at her. “What the…”

“You're  _ kidding _ me,” Anadil snaps, crossing her arms.

Hester peels off her gloves with a smirk. “What? I’m just  _ teaching you a lesson _ .”

Seething with anger, Sophie slams her palms on the ground. “I can’t believe you.  _ Both  _ of you.”

“Come on,” Hester says. “It’s just a joke. We’re having fun.” 

“Fun?” Sophie snorts. “Sure. Go ahead. Joke around and maybe later, you can have even more fun when you’re  _ dying _ .”

Hester and Anadil stare at her, maybe waiting for her to elaborate. Instead, Sophie stands up. As she walks away, the witches whisper. Asking if she’s seemed off lately, wondering what she might be hiding.  _ Wouldn’t they like to know.  _

_ Is there a reason why you won’t tell them about me? _ Hort asks, his smirk flashing in Sophie’s mind.

_ Maybe there is.  _ Holding her head high, Sophie storms back inside. The door slams and cuts off a shout from one of the witches outside. Glancing at the top of the stairs, Sophie imagines packing a bag for later.

_ Good plan, _ Hort muses. 

_ Of course it’s a good plan,  _ Sophie thinks as she ascends the stairs.  _ I thought of it. _

A moment passes before he responds.  _ I’m starting to think you’d make a good ally. _

_ Oh, really? Why? _

_ Because you don’t try to be good. You look out for yourself no matter what. Like in the backyard—you didn’t hesitate to fight that fake wolf. I respect that.  _

_ Wow, really? _ Sophie slams into her room and instantly walks into her closet (because for some reason, clothes always make her feel better). Her eyes flick to the bag Hester gave her and she scoffs, turning to the racks of clothing in front of her. 

Footsteps pound in the distance.  _ Here we go, _ Sophie sighs as she rifles through the closet. 

“Sophie?” Hester appears at Sophie’s doorframe and glares at the other witch. “What are you doing?”

“Looking for an outfit.” Sophie fights the urge to roll her eyes.

Hester stabs a finger at the bag, eyes flashing with anger.

“Yes, but…  _ accessories _ .”

“Why do you need accessories?” 

Sophie forces a laugh and pulls out her jewelry container, searching for an idea inside it. “Darling, you have so much to learn about fashion.”

Hester grins and stalks closer. “So you like the dress?”

“Yes. It’s wonderful.”

“So you  _ did  _ take it out of the bag, right?” Without waiting for a reaction, Hester scoops up the bag and pulls the dress out. Sophie winces. Hester bought her some wrinkled, bright teal monstrosity in the shape of the dress. Fabric like aluminum sweeps around the waist and down to the ground. For a moment, Sophie considers jumping out of her window.

Then she swallows. “It’s nice.”

“Glad you think so.” Hester’s eyes flick to Sophie. “So… what did you mean in the backyard?”

Sophie stiffens. Trying to remain expressionless, she turns. “Hmm?”

“You said something about us having fun dying.” Hester throws the dress to the ground; it lands in a crooked heap. She lowers herself so her demonic grin is only inches from Sophie’s face. “Care to explain?” 

Something explodes inside Sophie. Her fists curl and her face turns hot, while rage tears its way through her veins. Her vision shakes like the world’s breaking, and her face contorts with rage.  _ I should have run this coven myself, _ she almost spits.  _ I wish I’d taken the power for myself when I had the chance. _ She poises to scream… and then, she stops. The rage melts away. Sophie stiffens as artificial calm fills her and an empty smile fills her face. “Relax. It was a joke.”

“Really?” Hester scoffs.

“You said you were having fun,” Sophie says, the lie coming easy. “Why shouldn’t I have fun too?”

Eyes flashing, Hester steps back. Her nails dig into her palms. “I hope you’re being honest,” she hisses. “If you’re not…”

She spits at Sophie’s feet, and then she’s gone. 

Sophie’s fingers rake through her scalp as anger advances through her veins.  _ You can’t control me,  _ she promises her empty room. Nothing _ can control me. _

Her glare turns to the dress heaped on the floor.  _ Especially not you. _

  
  


Bickering pounds in Sophie's head the second she steps onto the porch. Her fingers tighten on the doorknob; she shoves a breath through her teeth.  _ This ends tonight. _ Forcing herself to smile, she releases the knob and marches forward. 

The rest of the coven waits in a convertible the color of money. Hester sits in the driver's seat, wearing some asymmetrical lime monstrosity as a top and cheetah-print pants. The other two aren’t spared from Hester’s horrible fashion sense—Anadil frowns at her glittering shirt, and Dot sports flared pants. 

Hester glances at Sophie, and her eyes narrow. “What are you wearing?”

Grinning, Sophie spins around, showing off a low-necked crop top, a denim miniskirt, tights, and enormous earrings.  _ So much better. _

“Where’s the dress?” Hester barks as Sophie slides in next to a stunned Dot.

“It didn’t fit.” Sophie leans back and shuts her eyes. Hester grumbles under her breath, then sparks the engine.

They drive. Sophie opens her eyes to the sky, dyed deep blue and violet by a setting sun. Headlights streak in the corner of her eyes. Wind brushes her bare stomach, whispering over the coven’s arguments. Streetlamps flicker like stars around trees’ dark silhouettes. Leaves crack under the car’s wheels, and a faint song plays on the radio.

The car stops at a light with a shudder. Sophie jolts up and meets Hester’s pointed glare. She smiles back.

Her smile collapses; her mind burns. Sophie feels her muscles clench, her mouth fill with a craving for blood, her body come undone. 

The feeling vanishes a split second later. This time, Sophie feels exhilarated. Energized.

_ He’s here. _

Anadil and Hester lock eyes before glaring back at Sophie. Voice dangerously controlled, Hester hisses, “Is there something you—”

Darkness flashes. Claws glint in the moonlight. Metal tears with a screech as fear flashes across the faces of everyone in the car.

Then, nothing. Cars speed by, a new song starts up on the radio. Bushes rustle as something retreats into them. 

Sophie leans forward, as does the rest of the coven. Three jagged lines rip through the convertible’s hood. It’s an awful sight, but for Sophie, it’s thrilling.

“What the—” Hester gasps, slamming out of the car. “I just bought this!”

Anadil joins her, and so does Dot. Sophie has no choice but to follow. The coven crowds around the hood, staring at the metal that curls around the three rips on the hood. 

Shuddering, Sophie looks away. This part of town is empty. A shadowed cemetery on one side of the road, a closed pawn shop on the other, trees all around. Aside from the cars blurring past, no signs of people.  _ Good place to kill someone. _

“Sophie?”

She snaps back to reality. All three witches—even Dot—now glare at her.

“You’re hiding something,”Anadil says.

“Of course not.” Sophie frowns. “I would never—”

A vision stops her words. Claws sink into a gravestone; beyond it, four figures stand around a car. 

Sophie glances into the gates, but she sees nothing. 

“What?” Hester demands. “What is it?”

A tiny smirk overtakes Sophie’s lips. Changing her expression to one of terror, she whirls toward the coven. “I think—I think I saw something.”

The group stiffens. Anadil and Hester stare at the empty graveyard, while Dot turns pale. Hester looks back at Sophie a second later. “You’re sure?”

“Yes.” Sophie floods her voice with fear.

“Can we go home now?” Dot mumbles.

Hester motions at the car and scowls. “Good luck with that.”

While the witches fall into tense silence, Anadil steps toward the front gate, fingers wrapping around it. A beam from her phone shines into the graves. She takes a breath. “I’m going in.”

“ _ What? _ ” Hester spits. “Ani, you can’t.”

Mumbling a spell, Anadil floats her fingers over the lock. It pops open. She shoves the gate wider and steps inside.

Hester abandons the car and grabs Anadil’s wrists. “Don’t go in there.” 

“Make me.” Anadil pulls away and, without looking back, ventures inside the graveyard. Hester watches, face turning pale.

Hester starts after her covenmate, then glares at Dot and Sophie. “Don’t move.” The gates creak as she disappears inside them. 

Sophie walks forward so Dot can’t see her victorious smirk. Before she knows it, she stands in front of the graveyard’s gates. 

“What are you doing?” Dot calls, still next to the car. 

“Following them.” Sophie’s eyes shift beyond the gates.

“But Hester said—”

“Why do you still insist on listening to her?” Tossing her hair over her shoulder, Sophie continues forward. 

A sigh, then footsteps tramp after Sophie. Her grin widens.  _ Got them. _

An image flickers in her head: Hester and Anadil tramping past rows of rotting tombstones.  _ I know, I’m coming, _ Sophie grouches. The gate clangs as Dot follows her inside, then a beam from a flashlight sweeps over the graves, casting long shadows onto the grass. The earth rises and falls in miniature peaks and valleys. The Moon hovers just above the horizon, glaring yellow. 

Before Sophie can stop herself, she slams into Hester, who whirls around. “What are you—I told you to stay with the car!”

Dot looks down, while Sophie opens her mouth to defend herself.

A twig snaps with the sound of bones breaking. Dot gasps; Hester and Anadil glance at each other. Fingers spark with magic as the witches form a defensive circle. Hands outstretched, they wait. 

A howl cuts through the air. 

Feet pound against the earth. Coming fast. Hester mumbles something, her magic glowing bloodred against the dark.

Then a shout. A roar. A weak shield flickers in front of the witches. 

Anadil crumples to the ground, hands flying in front of her. Hester and Dot stumble back, but Sophie stays frozen as something next to Anadil rises.

Six and a half feet tall, muscles covered in dark hair. Paws instead of feet; claws and a hunched back. Lips pulled back to reveal a set of needle-sharp teeth.

Hort looks at Sophie, and his bloodthirsty smile grows. Equal parts fear and exhilaration rush through her. 

Hester screams out a war cry and shoves past Sophie. She unleashes a spell; Hort lunges for her. A shudder slams through his body as she dodges him and rolls through grass.

Recovering, Hort turns dark eyes toward Anadil. She scrambles back but goes nowhere. Terror glints in her eyes.

Claws plunge into her chest, drawing red, so much red. Anadil screams. She’s never screamed before. A second later, she goes silent, slumping against the ground. 

Hester screams Anadil’s name. Dot stumbles back, while Sophie refuses to move.

Hort lifts bloodied claws, and his eyes lock on Dot. She shrieks and turns to run.

The wolf lunges to chase her—his body contorts and he plummets. Spitting, cursing, Hester shoots another spell at him. Growling, Hort struggles to his feet.

Throwing up a weak shield, Hester spins to Sophie and screams, “ _ Do something!” _ Sophie takes one step back. Hort breaks through Hester’s shield and shoves her to the ground, claws flashing. She raises her arms to shield herself, face twisting every time a new line of blood mars her arms. Fingers twitching, Sophie feels Hort slice through Hester’s flesh as if she’s doing it herself.

Hester shouts at Sophie again. Begging. Pleading. Sophie can’t stop the cold grin that spreads across her face. 

With a scream, Hester plants a boot in Hort’s face. He recoils; she scrambles up and rushes toward Anadil. Sophie moves to block her.

Their eyes meet, fire on fire. “Out of the way,” Hester spits.

Sophie lifts her chin higher. “No.”

Shock crossing her face, Hester steps back. Then her eyes harden, and she raises her hands. “I should have seen this coming.”

Red flashes in Sophie’s eyes, and she’s in the air. She arcs through the sky before her body slams into the ground and all she feels is pain. Her head swims; teal flashes in between the nearby trees. Hort roars.

Groaning, Sophie sits up. Her fingers sink into cool grass. While her head swims and her body vibrates with pain, nothing seems broken. Sophie stands.

Far ahead of her, Hester screams as Hort pins her to a tombstone. She slams a glowing fist into his snout and tries to flee. He grabs her ankle with a roar and she falls. 

_ Please kill her quickly, _ Sophie tells Hort. His teeth flash in response. 

A wild cry erupts. Dot charges to Hester’s defense, waving her phone like a red flag. Hort looks at her long enough that Hester slips away and stumbles toward freedom. Dot whirls to follow her—

Hort moves in front of her, teeth bared in a smile. Dot spins around, but Sophie’s there, a cold glare in her eyes. The last spark of hope in Dot’s eyes fades.

Sophie’s eyes lock with Hort’s. She doesn’t have to say a word before he lunges for the kill. 

A silver blade arcs through the air and slams into Hort’s chest. He cries out and stumbles backward, blood painting his fur.

As Dot scrambles away, someone points a sword at Hort’s chest. Someone wearing the horrible teal dress Hester bought, whose eyes glimmer with uncertainty as they stare Hort down.  _ Agatha. _ The irony of this moment hits Sophie like a bullet. 

Inhaling, Agatha raises the sword over her head. The blade glints in the moonlight, then arcs toward Hort’s throat. 

Sophie doesn’t think. Her limbs kick into gear and she lurches forward, crashing into Agatha. Both girls slam into the ground, sword lost to the grass. Sophie’s body throbs with pain. She struggles to breathe. Squeezing her eyes shut, she reaches toward Hort.

She pulls herself forward. Tears grass from the dirt, scrapes against the dirt until the fabric over her knees wears away. Until she’s reached Hort’s side. 

His chest rises and falls slowly; his claws dig into the ground. Blood stains the fur over his throat and chest. Gasping hard, Sophie pushes a hand against his wounds to stop the bloodflow. His fingers wrap around her wrist, pulling her palm to his face.

Sophie chokes on a breath. “You—you can’t die.”

Her body sags; her eyes close. Nothing in her resists when Hort pulls her close.

She’s forced to rise a minute later, legs shaking, heart torn out. The spark in her mind is gone. The body below her is just that—a body. A shell. 

She can’t bring herself to look back at Hort. Can’t cry either. It’s like she’s been drained of all emotion, only leaving… anger. A dull roar that keeps her from crumpling back to the ground. 

The coven doesn’t care. They’re clustered around a motionless Anadil, their shaking bodies inches apart as if they need each other’s warmth to stay alive. Dot’s crying; even Hester sheds a tear. Neither of the two look over at Sophie. Agatha, on the other hand, looks up for one moment. Sadness burns in her eyes as if Sophie’s the real traitor, and then she looks back down.

Rage burns in Sophie’s eyes. How dare Agatha sit by the coven like Tedros never happened. How  _ dare _ they live while Hort dies. Sophie’s fists curl and she turns away, determined to leave them behind. 

She starts running. The coven fades to nothing behind her. Her body burns; her feet tear through the earth. When she exits the gates, pain turns to rebirth. She turns her head up toward the sky, toward stars she’s never seen before and an enormous moon. 

Her head tilts. Beyond the cars and buildings, beyond civilization itself, trees line the horizon. A faraway forest. Somewhere Sophie can disappear and never be found.

Without looking back, she runs.

  
  


The night flies by. Only fragments linger in Sophie’s mind. Running. Screaming. Killing. And a strength she’s never felt before. 

Soon enough, the Sun burns above the sky, forcing Sophie to squint as her eyes water. Her hands raise to block out the light. Her hands come into focus, revealing dirt and dry blood streaked across her skin. Sophie isn’t surprised. 

She reaches down. Her fingers dig into dry ground, surrounded by leaves dried to brown. Sophie pushes deeper as she struggles to her feet. As she straightens up, her legs shake, and her pounding heart begins to slow. Every inch of her skin thrums with dull pain.

Wind pushes against her body, raising goosebumps on her bare skin. A breath skirts through her lips. Shivering, she pulls her arms around herself, wishing for warmth. No, that’s not it. She wishes for the Moon and the power it brings her. 

Her feet crush leaves as she steps forward. No matter where she looks, all she sees is dense trees, unfamiliar land. Somewhere no human would ever dare to come. 

Alone, as she’s meant to be. No birds or animals. One rabbit at the foot of a tree, but dead and bleeding out into the grass. Staring at it, Sophie feels… nothing. Not repulsion or thrill or anything. 

Why did sunrise come so early? 

Sophie looks down at herself. Her hair, matted and dirty, clings to her neck. Her face bare of makeup except for dry blood that leaves flecks on her fingers. Her nails cracked and her skin bruised. A few days ago, she’d be horrified if she looked like this, but now it doesn’t matter. 

Her eyes travel to her collarbone, where a violet bruise surrounds a fresh bite mark. Her mind travels back to the moment when she gained it, the last moment of Hort’s life. When he pulled her close, part of her thought he’d kiss her. But why would he give her something fleeting when he could give her something that could change her future?

The coven would be jealous. All this power they’d spent so long trying to gain for themselves now lay inside Sophie. She could imagine their faces: their shock, envy…  _ terror. _ Oh yes, they’d be scared. They’d beg Sophie for mercy.

And Sophie would go for the kill. 

Smile slashing across her face, she imagines their fall. Hester, Dot… and Agatha.  _ Especially _ Agatha. None of them will stand a chance.

Sophie tilts her head toward the sky. She howls, and the sound is everything. A song of grief, a celebration, a war cry.

_ Watch out _ , she thinks as bloodlust burns in her mind.  _ The wolf is coming. _


	2. the moodboards

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**Author's Note:**

> hi everyone! before i forget, i need to mention that this fic is based off of red velvet’s “rbb (really bad boy)” mv, which you can watch here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IWJUPY-2EIM. (seriously. support these ladies.)  
> all right, i’m back! with a… hophie fic? i honestly don’t know where that came from. prior to otk, i hated hophie with a passion, but now i’m chill with it. ngl tho, i prefer tagatha.  
> soo in terms of other projects: part 3? probably, but not just yet i have a couple fics in the earlier stages, so it’ll still be a while until i post those. i’ve been thinking about uploading a fic i originally posted on the sge website, so maybe that’ll come next.  
> anyways, tysm for reading! please leave comments + kudos if you enjoyed this, and keep your eyes peeled for my next projects 👀 ~ rebelcracker


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